


Blood Is Thicker...

by Ghost_Owl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Child Acquisition, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Interesting, LET'S FIND OUT, TROS SPOILERS!!!!!, The Darth Vader Method, making educated guesses at the correct timeline here, more like, so Palps had a kid huh?, wonder what would have happened if Vader found out about that little tidbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 06:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Owl/pseuds/Ghost_Owl
Summary: Vader knew he should have killed the child the moment he figured out just what exactly it was...
Relationships: Darth Vader & Rey's Father
Comments: 33
Kudos: 186





	Blood Is Thicker...

Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, would not consider himself one to be stunned into silence.

Yet, and _yet_ , as he stood there staring at the Thing, he found himself unable to speak, unable to even move.

The Thing was a child, male, scrawny, of about five human years if Vader cared to guess, and it thankfully wasn’t making any noises either— just gawked back up at Vader with wide blue eyes and a slack little jaw. The Thing was fortunate it had chosen to remain silent; if it had made a single sound, Vader likely would have killed it on the spot.

The protocol droid hovering anxiously in the background was not as intelligent. It hurried forward, quavering, “Lord Vader, I—“

Vader raised a hand. The droid flew shrieking backwards in a shower of sparks, exploding in a pile of scrap metal upon hitting the stony wall.

More movements, the shadowy, faceless hoods of the sad creatures Vader had found scuttling around maintaining the dark and decrepit old facility Vader wouldn’t admit to stumbling upon completely by accident. One of the hooded figures foolishly edged closer, as if to touch him, and Vader’s still-raised hand clenched into a fist. He could feel the rising fear amongst him as each and every pitiful life-form around him clutched retching at their throats as they crumpled to the ground.

Everyone but the Thing who still stood frozen in front of Vader, now visibly trembling and pale terror written all over its pudgy face, but still no movement. Perhaps the child— the _Thing_ —was stupid. Vader should have strangled it along with the others. He should strangle it now.

Vader took a step forward.

The Thing flinched, but remained where it was.

Vader was buffeted with a revolting wave of _fearworryconfusionfear_ streaming from The Thing, normally ignorable emotions if not for the fact that they were tied to that familiar presence he detested more than anything.

Vader had encountered children before.

Vader had murdered children before.

This one was no different, just as weak, just as vulnerable, just as emotional as any other. It didn’t even have a drop of Force Sensitivity to its name.

What it was _drenched_ with was the overwhelming, rotten stench of Vader’s own Master.

Under his mask, Vader felt his eyelid twitch.

Somewhere off to the left, a piece of medical equipment crumpled.

This made no _sense_.

Vader was Sidious’s third apprentice that he knew of, and he was not fool enough to think his Master would not hesitate to replace him with a newer, stronger, less broken model should he come across one. Given what had happened with the last child Sidious had decided he wanted for himself, it made sense that this time upon finding a suitable successor he would secret the child away to be raised solely under his twisted thumb, avoid this one gaining any kind of bothersome… _attachments._

Vader might be able to comprehend that logic if the Thing in front of him had any Force Sensitivity— no, it definitely did not, he confirmed after once more prodding it frustratedly with a mind probe.

The Thing was still staring at him, and Vader did not appreciate it. He once more wondered why he was continuing to allow it to live.

It blinked.

 _This made no sense._ Why did his Master need this child?

He felt a noise scrape through his tattered vocal cords and out through the vocoder as a rumble that might have once been a growl of irritation.

“What are you?” Vader asked it.

Some important figure’s child, perhaps, an unlucky soul who had displeased the Emperor and now their offspring was being held as leverage against them? Unlikely. Child or not, Sidious’s prisoners were all enemies of the Empire and treated as such, no matter who they were. 

Vader would have been made aware of a political prisoner. Political prisoners were not kept hidden in secret medical facilities on backwater worlds being cared for by droids and the same shady, cloaked servants Vader had seen on his Master’s other discreet projects. There were things his Master had not taught him yet, but he knew those things were Dark, forbidden. Important. If Vader had not been informed of his Master keeping a human child, there was a much deeper reason— and Vader certainly had not been informed.

He was only here because his personal ship had been damaged in a dogfight with a rogue Jedi who had been a slightly better pilot than Vader had been expecting. He had blown the traitor’s ship to pieces, of course, but his engine was damaged, and he had been forced to search his personal collected database for the nearest Imperial outpost so he could stop and make repairs. Perhaps it had been his Master’s own oversight in either making the Imperial database easy enough for Vader to access the entire thing with minimal hacking, or putting this obviously covert location in the datarecords in the first place.

Nevertheless, Vader had landed on this rocky, barren dwarf planet shrouded in mist and near permanent night expecting to find a rather run-down fueling station. He had not expected the hidden underground tunnels leading to what looked like a secret medcenter.

He had not expected the Thing.

The Thing that had not answered him when he spoke to it.

“I asked you a question,” Vader told it. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

He really should kill it, he thought, as the child trembled again, lip quivering. He would certainly kill it if it began to cry, Vader had no patience for crying.

Sidious loathed crying too.

_So why did the presence of Sidious hang all over this child?_

It could be one of his Master’s experiments, Vader thought. That was much more likely, what with all of the Dark energy he could feel surrounding it. If something about this child proved valuable to his Master’s plans, perhaps ending its life was not in Vader’s best interests. Not yet.

The Thing _still_ had not spoken. All he could glean from its mind was fear of him. Vader would give it a final chance.

“Now, child.”

The child jumped at his voice before stiffening immediately, blinking fearfully up at Vader.

Vader paused. That was interesting.

“What,” he tried again, speaking as slowly as he could. “Are you?”

The child mumbled under its breath. So it wasn’t mute, then.

“Speak up,” Vader ordered.

The child’s head snapped upwards. “Vesh.”

“What.”

“I am called Vesh.”

Formal, clipped, almost robotic speech. Core accented. Someone had disciplined this child.

“Your family name?” Vader tried. 

The child’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I am Vesh,” it repeated.

Too young to know or doesn’t have one.

“Why are you here?” Vader pushed. Why exactly he was pushing, he could not say.

“I live here,” responded the child, quietly, big eyes still staring worriedly at Vader as if he were seconds from crushing it like he did the droid. Good. The child had some self-preservation.

Vader took an extra-deep breath through his vocoder. “How do you live here? This is an Imperial facility.”

“I—“ The child hesitated for the first time, looking slightly to Vader’s left. “I, uh, I sleep down there.” It nodded down a black tunnel with no lighting. Vader assumed there was a cell of some sorts, or a bed? Why the droid and caretakers had been allowing the child to roam the compound freely as it had been when Vader discovered it by almost stepping on the thing…

“I come out when my datapad beeps and M-1LY—“ The child faltered again, voice actually wavering as it looked over at the pile of wrecked droid parts. Vader noted how the child pronounced the droid’s name as “Millie”. “She, she gives me my food packets, or she used to, and I would eat them in my room.”

So the child was being cared for, to some extent. Curious. Vader cocked his head towards the direction of where it slept. “How long do you spend in there?”

“That’s where I live,” the child responded. “I have my datapad, it has my exercises on it and my educational work, and as long as I do them, M-1LY lets me have food.”

 _Total isolation and coercion by threatening starvation._ Now that was more like Vader’s Master. It still did not explain…

“Then why were you walking around freely when I arrived?” Vader could not remember the last time he had bothered to wait around and ask time-draining questions when he could simply push and take what he wanted instead. The child was suspiciously well-mannered and spoken for his age, however, and Vader could admit it was at least preferable to dealing with a whining, sniveling brat.

The child’s gaze darted back to the floor. “I’m only let out when it’s time to do the tests.”

Force, this was like digging a trench with a toothpick. “What are the tests?” Vader demanded in exasperation, withdrawing slightly when he got another flinch from the child.

“I don’t know!” the child protested, and there was the hint of whine in his voice. “He comes sometimes, not a lot, and then I have to sit over there—“ the child pointed at the dimly lit medbay area. “—and I get attached to machines and asked questions and poked a lot and then I have to go to sleep, and then he’s always mad at me after, and!”

“Enough!” Vader silenced the incessant babbling. He was certain he knew who this “he” was, but Vader still had to ask, “Who is the one who visits you?”

The child’s face screwed up. “He’s an old, ugly man.”

There went the last of Vader’s doubts, but the child kept talking. “I call him My Lord when he’s angry and Father when he’s nice. He’s my father.”

Wait.

_What._

“What,” said Vader. He couldn’t have heard that right, his helmet’s audio receptors—

“I said,” the boy started, “I call him My Lord when he’s angry and Father—“

 _“I heard you,”_ Vader told the child, and he might have spoken a bit louder this time, as the child actually took a couple of scrambling steps backward. Vader payed him no mind, too focused on the _blatant and obvious lie._

Sidious was toying with this child, of course he was, misleading him into a false sense of comfort. It was what he did, lie and promise someone a family, pretend to care, only then to—

Then why, _why_ was the thrice-damned Force ringing in Vader’s head clearer than it had been for years, ringing with _truth?_

No. 

This couldn’t be true. 

It wasn’t possible.

Vader vaguely recognized that the rocky tunnel walls were starting to shake and crumble around them, the machines in the medical area creaking and bursting into flaming sparks. The child now finally was crying out in fright, dropping to the floor and curling into a ball.

Vader caught a glimpse of glittering blue eyes peering out between cracked fingers at him, eyes more scared than his— his _father’s_ had ever been.

There was no denying it.

This child was a Palpatine.

Vader saw _red_.

He saw the little spawn rising off the ground in front of him, in his clutches.

_Palpatine’s son._

_How DARE HE?_

Vader’s Master had stood by and watched for years— _years_ —as Vader tore himself apart looking for a way to bring back the wife and child he had lost, had belittled his fruitless searches in old Jedi archives, mocked him during the disaster with Corvax’s descendant, taunted him for his failing of Padmé every moment he got and constantly held over his damn head that cursed, _karking_ ability to save her that Vader had promised his very soul to get in the first place but had never gotten because it was a _lie, everything was a lie, Padmé was_ gone—

Sidious had told Vader love was a weakness. Love had killed Skywalker.

Sidious had a son.

Sidious had a son, which meant Sidious had a _family_ , one he had hidden from everyone for who knew how many years, hidden from Vader while Vader suffered alone—

Vader was going to destroy this pathetic creature in front of him.

Crush it slowly, feel the life drain from its feeble form.

Let his Master feel it too, wherever he was, feel and be helpless for once as he felt what he had tried so hard to protect bleed away in his brain until there was nothing left, nothing but memories slowly fading, nothing but being alone in his own hatred and rage—

He could feel the tension in the Force around the child suspended in the air in front of him. It would be _so easy,_ like cracking an egg.

Vader heard the trembling gasps then, saw the tears beginning to run down the face of a child who was still attempting to be brave, eyes squeezed shut but not struggling or doing anything to escape.

A nerfcalf to the slaughter.

Vader felt disgusted. If this creature’s _father_ was here, he would hate the child in this moment for daring to be so weak.

_He would hate the child…_

Vader’s grip in the Force loosened in the slightest.

Sidious _did_ hate the child.

Slowly, Vader felt the Force around the child lowering it to the floor as the realization swirled through his head.

If there was only one thing Vader had ever learned about his Master, it was that the monster known as Darth Sidious had never even known what love was, let alone had the ability to experience it in any kind.

This child was the worst thing Sidious could have possibly been forced to deal with.

The boy reported the man who visited him always angry after running tests, locking him up far away where anyone would have to see him, leaving his care to a droid warden unless absolutely necessary. The boy, the child of the most powerful Darksider to ever exist, who possessed all the Force Sensitivity of a dining spoon.

This child had no use. No potential to train or be coaxed out and manipulated for the Emperor’s own purposes. No ability to take up Sidious’s Dark legacy and heritage. Nothing that would benefit Sidious personally whatsoever.

This child was hidden out of sight and out of mind; the only reason he was still alive was likely Vader’s Master believing there was still potential in the child’s future to make something of him.

There were also no signs of the child having any sort of mother.

Vader set the child back down on the ground in front of him. The boy sat there for a moment, likely stunned, before slowly and staggeringly getting back up and standing once more in front of Vader, tears still streaming down his little face, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back as he sniffled.

Vader recognized this kind of behavior, the willingness of slave children to stand and take whatever was coming at them quietly, to get it over with and go on living. Visits from Sidious must have instilled that behavior into this child.

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispered through heaved breaths.

Vader should really put the thing out of his misery.

Instead, Vader asked him, “Do you have a mother?”

Watery eyes blinked at him in puzzlement. “What?”

It was useless, Vader decided upon brushing against his little mind. The child had no concept of such a thing like a mother to exist, he would not find any information here on what sort of woman could _possibly..._

A ripple of pain traveled through Vader’s suit, what might have ben what was left of his body attempting a shudder of disgust. 

_Ew,_ Vader thought.

This presumably human child could be no more than five or six years; given that this year was the coming tenth anniversary of the Empire, it was likely this child was not conceived before the fall of the Republic. Vader tried to think of any humans he knew who drifted around his Master that might wish to reproduce— no, he could not think of it. Not Sidious. 

Belatedly, Vader wondered if this companion of his Master might have been around longer than the Empire, had stayed with him through the transition period. Skywalker’s memories of the time were hardly reliable, as Sidious had told him so very little about anything. Sidious could have had a whole harem for all that weak minded Jedi fool had known about it. He was the most powerful man in the galaxy, and if he saw something he wanted…

No. Vader resisted the urge to shake his head in confusion. It still did not add up. Now that he was thinking clearly, he recognized that any descendants of Sidious would be perceived by his Master as a potential threat to his power. He could not see his Master purposefully attempting to reproduce, and if an accident had occurred, it was likely the unlucky bearer of the potential child would be swiftly eliminated.

Maybe this mother had ran for a while before getting caught, had the child in secret before Sidious found out.

Or maybe there was no mother at all, perhaps this was a situation where Sidious had tried to create a child artificially for some hidden reason or another.

Vader examined the shivering creature in front of him critically. No matter how this child had came to be, it was blatantly obvious to Vader that Sidious would never have any use for it, besides Dark rituals and a life of pain and experimentation.

His Master would know it was him if he were to kill the boy. If he left the boy to his fate right now, Sidious might not know of Vader’s discovery— provided he fixed the nurse droid and sent new acolytes over —until the next time he visited and the boy undoubtedly told him, giving Vader time to prepare for it. Sidious had not wanted Vader to know about the child for a reason, maybe a larger reason than just rightly suspecting that Vader would murder the son it was obvious he did not even like.

However, what kind of Sith would Vader be if he allowed his Master to train a potential replacement apprentice right under his nose? It was near impossible to make anything out of the boy, but if anyone could do it…

The safest course of action was for Vader to just leave the child here and immediately alert his Master of his findings. Sidious would come up with some sort of lie or another to placate Vader and move the boy to a new secret location, to be forgotten once again by Vader and the rest of the world.

Vader had a bad feeling about this.

He did not like anything about letting Sidious’s son grow up with only the twisted creature that was his father keeping an eye on him.

Vader did not trust his Master as far as he could throw him, and he did not trust this child.

Would his Master be too horribly upset if Vader just killed the boy now? If Sidious really gave more than a passing care, this facility would be far more guarded and far more hidden, and there wouldn’t be a chance that its location accidentally made its way into the easily hackable Imperial archives.

Someone had named the boy, though.

 _Vesh,_ the tiny voice had said.

The little boy had not moved from his submissive pose the entire time Vader had been thinking. Vader didn’t like it.

“You may sit,” said Vader.

The child wobbled.

“Sit!” Vader barked.

The child sat.

What if the boy simply… disappeared? If there was a mysterious fire in the facility that Sidious did not discover until the next time he tried to pay a visit? There was no reason to suspect Vader, he seemed confident enough his apprentice would never find out about this operation.

Vader could leave the boy somewhere _he_ could keep an eye on him, monitor him to make sure his Master hadn’t created some sort of hidden monster that just needed to grow teeth. 

His Master would be irritated at the loss of what he considered property, and a tiny part of Vader he refused to acknowledge felt glad about it.

Let Sidious deal with the loss of his family. If he truly had the power to save loved ones, if he truly loved the child, he could take his time to find it.

What Vader would actually do with a human child in the meantime… he would figure that out later. Human children had their uses. Vader would find a job of some type for him to do. If the boy displeased him, he could always kill him later. This would be fine.

“Vesh.” Vader spoke the name aloud, trying it out. 

The boy’s head snapped up to meet him again. Vader would have to put a stop to that; it could be considered unnerving if Sith Lords got unnerved. Simple obedience would do, none of this pomp and circumstance.

“You will come with me,” Vader told him. He hoped the child would not fuss about it.

The boy simply nodded, scrambling to his feet. Vader sensed the boy was still terrified of him. Good. Fear was healthy. Fear was useful.

It felt… odd, having small footsteps shadowing him as Vader swept through the base, setting the proper charges and tripping the proper wires to trigger a controlled explosion. He nearly tripped over the boy twice, each time the boy leaping backwards with an apology on his lips. It was growing tiresome, but Vader had resolved not to kill him just yet.

Reluctantly, Vader softened his movements, hoping that if he startled the child less, he wouldn’t irritatingly jump around his legs like a spooked lothkitten quite as much.

As Vader set the last charge, he turned to see the boy trembling once more— Vader felt a prickle of annoyance, he was trying to be as un-intimidating as he could possibly manage. A closer inspection revealed that no, he was not frightening the child any worse than he already had, but the boy was cold. He was wearing a dull Imperial grey jumpsuit and little black boots, he should be sufficiently warm— though inside his own suit, Vader could admit his sense of temperature was slightly skewed.

“Do you have a coat?” Vader asked the boy. 

The boy shook his head. “No. I have a blanket, in my room down there.”

“Retrieve your coat,” Vader commanded. “I suggest you do not try to escape; if you are not back in front of me in an appropriate amount of time, I will find you myself.”

The child nodded. “Yes My Lo— uh…”

Vader suppressed the urge to sigh. “You will address me as Vader.”

“Yes, Vader.” The child scurried off down the hallway, and Vader continued to finish setting up the explosion. All the while, he was counting in his head. If the child had not returned when he reached zero, Vader would be forced to hunt him down; which he was not in the mood to do.

Vader need not have worried; soon after, the patter of footsteps and tentative presence alerted him to the boy hurrying back over to him, wrapped up in a standard grey thermal blanket and clutching a lump wrapped up in it tight to his chest. Vader felt irritation take over once again. He had not permitted belongings.

“What do you have in your arms?”

The child froze, face paling. “I, uh, Vader sir, I—“ The child seemed to realize his defence was futile, face dropping, and slowly unwrapped the blanket, revealing a datapad and a jumble of what looked like socks.

“The datapad stays here,” Vader told him bluntly. Sidious could track something like that easily.

“But it’s got all my things on it! My lessons and exercises and everything,” the boy protested, surge of bravery subsiding immediately after as he clamped his mouth shut, but his fingers tightened on the datapad. Vader respected the fact that this child was not entirely spineless, but his orders were to be obeyed.

“That matters little to me,” Vader informed him. “You are not taking it.”

The child’s eyes grew wet, and for a moment, Vader thought the boy might fight him again. The boy was not suicidal, however, and sniffling once more, he extended his datapad to Vader.

The sniffling sounds grated on Vader’s hearing sensors. He plucked the datapad out of the small fingers, ready to just crush it before hesitating. The child being locked up like this, his entire life likely amounted to everything on that datapad. Vader might as well keep the sim chip to find out more about him, and it might also halt the wretched sniffling.

“If you behave,” Vader announced, popping the chip out and crushing the pad with the Force, “you may receive a new one.”

The child again proved his intelligence by thankfully shutting up immediately, nodding his head jerkily. His sock bundle shook in its position tucked under the boy’s arm and Vader couldn’t get a clear look at it.

“And what else are you holding?”

The child’s brief happiness at the temptation of a new datapad vanished instantly and oh _Sith_ , there was the sniffling again.

“I actually don’t need a new datapad,” the child blurted out. “I don’t. Just let me keep this! I promise I’ll be good, better than I am for Father—“

“What is it?” Vader interrupted.

Still sniffling, the boy angled his sock bundle properly so Vader could see it. “It’s Soup, he’s my friend.”

It was a jumble of socks tied together, five of them, stuffed with something or other, and one sock possessing a crudely drawn smiley face. It was a doll of sorts, Vader realized. The boy had created it out of old clothing in his isolation, and for some absurd reason named it Soup.

Comfort objects made one weak and dependent and Vader was a second from insisting the doll stayed behind too, but the sniffling was growing louder and Vader very much wished for silence. The child was young, after all.

“You may take that with you,” Vader told the child. “But nothing else.”

The sniffling stopped again. “I can keep Soup?”

Vader was not going to address the thing as “Soup”. “You may, as long as you do as you are told. Displease me and I will take it.”

More frantic nodding. “Yes Vader.”

Vader almost caught himself nodding back at him. He spared a look around. The facility was ready for demolition.

_Now what?_

Vader ignored the thought. He would deal with problems as they arose. This was a working plan.

“Follow me,” Vader informed the child. They would go back to his ship. There was another Imperial station not far from here they could go to fix the engine, he could use the time to figure out where he was taking the child next.

The boy moved quickly after him, little legs pumping to keep up with Vader’s wide strides. As Vader reached the front door to the facility that led out into the tunnels that would take them up and out and back to the ship, he felt the boy pause.

He turned around to see the child hesitating, clutching his doll tightly as he stared back into the maw of the cave facility that had been likely all he had known for his short existence.

The boy would adjust, Vader thought. It wasn’t like the boy was leaving anything behind like a mother, or anything else of value.

“Keep moving,” Vader said.

The boy appeared not to have heard him.

“Vesh.” 

The boy, Vesh, jumped at his name, head peering back out of his blanket wrap at Vader guiltily. “Sorry, Vader.”

“Hurry up,” Vader told him, turning around and heading for the tunnel that would take them up, thankfully hearing the boy start moving again behind him. 

Panting, Vesh caught up to him. “Are we going to see Father?”

Vader almost stopped moving, forcing himself to remain casual. “No, we are not.”

He could feel the child’s puzzlement. “Then where—“

“No questions.”

“Yes, Vader.”

The rest of the walk through the tunnels was silent. Once they reached the entrance, Vader turned and pressed the button on his gauntlet that would trigger the explosion. A rumbling through the caves was heard along with a faint orange glow. A cloud of dust made its way up and washed over them. 

Vesh coughed, rubbing at his eyes.

“Quiet,” Vader told him, angling his cape so less of the dust reached the boy.

Once Vader was certain the facility was in flames and collapsed, he turned around again and started walking to his ship. Vesh made a small gasp from his side. “That’s a ship! I’ve read about those on my pad! Are we going to be flying in it?”

“Yes,” Vader told him. “I said no questions, young one.”

“Sorry Vader,” Vesh responded, but Vader could feel his excitement as he readjusted his blanket wrapped around him. 

There was not much space in the cockpit, but they were not flying very far and Vader was a good enough pilot that the boy was not likely to be jostled around if he sat behind the pilot’s chair.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness when they reached the ship and Vesh flinched with a cry when Vader had to Force-lift him into the cockpit.

As Vader strapped himself in, starting the ship up, he allowed himself a moment to think on what exactly he was going to do with the creature behind him.

He could admit this plan was not thought through.

Behind him, Vesh gasped as the ship began to rise and take off into the atmosphere, and Vader closed his mind off to prevent any of the irritating emotions of a child in space for the first time distract his flying.

Sidious should have followed his own words. Sith did not have families.

As Vader gently turned the ship in an arc and sent it soaring into deep space, the Force shifted, ever so slightly.

The future was now much more interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea the moment I saw the film cuz c'mon, Vader WOULD. Might leave this as a oneshot, might come back to it, lemme know if you guys want more!!!!
> 
> So we don't know how old Rey's parents were when they had her in 11 ABY, but they left her on Jakku in 16 ABY and her father's actor is 30. I fudged the age numbers a bit so my headcanon birth date for Palpatine's son (Jesus, I cannot believe that is canon) is 15 BBY.
> 
> I also came up with the name "Vesh" by giving him the Alucard treatment and scrambling Sheev's name a bit because honestly trying to come up with a name that sounds good with _Palpatine_ is damn harder than I thought.
> 
> So yea, Sheev FUCKS, who knew???
> 
> Comments are loved and appreciated!
> 
> If you liked, come say hi to me on Tumblr at [@twilightofthe](https://twilightofthe.tumblr.com/)


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